Regrets and Cocoons
by BelleLee
Summary: Tequila and comfort. One shot Jane / Lisbon song fic. Red John gets away again and they take comfort in each other but how will they feel in the morning.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there. This is a one shot using the Jack Johnson song Cocoon as inspiration. I had said that I was going to post the next chapters for my other two fics. The Thin Red Lines and my Next Girl but that was before my kids and I all caught a cold. I'm still hoping to be able to post chapter 3 for My Next Girl but in the meantime I felt bad for leaving you guys hanging. So hear you go, this is my take on how a Jane /Lisbon hook up might happen. Not great but you guys are always so encouraging in the reviews that I figured I should do something for you while I work on my other stuff.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist or the song Cocoon but my birthday is coming up so if anyone wants to have Jack Johnson serenade me or drop off a bow topped Simon Baker at my house that would be awesome.**

**Regrets and Cocoons**

She lay as still as possible, breath even, feigning sleep. Her arm was asleep and her bladder uncomfortably full but she was afraid to move, afraid it would cost her this moment and the warmth of the man pressed against her naked back.

_**Well based on your smile  
I'm betting all of this  
Might be over soon  
But you're bound to win  
Cause if I'm betting against you  
I think I'd rather lose  
But this is all that I have**_

A long day, a bad case, a dead body and red smiley painted in blood on the wall. It had all combined to have Patrick Jane straining at the leash on his sanity and Teresa Lisbon's patience strained. It had grown dark, they were no closer to finding Red John and the others had left, leaving them alone. "_To wallow in our respective feelings of guilt and failure_," "Well not today," she said with a bitter smile, opening the bottom right drawer of her desk. She'd picked up the shiny glass bottle and heading out to the couch were her consultant pretended to sleep she thought "_If anyone deserves to forget, even for just a night, it's the two of us."_

_**So please  
Take what's left of this heart and use  
Please use only what you really need  
You know I only have so little  
So please  
Mend your broken heart and leave**_

He'd looked surprised when she offered him the first shot but seeing the look on her face he'd know why, he'd understood. (_Of course he knew, he always knows, which is why she wondered why he wasn't able to tell she was faking sleep_) She wanted to forget, to loosen her control, if only for a short while but she couldn't do it, didn't trust herself to be alone with the bottle. So he nodded yes when he should have said no and when the bottle was empty and she suggested taking a cab to her place for more he agreed. He knew she didn't want to be alone and he had nothing to go home to but a blood stained wall.

_**I know it's not your style  
I can tell by the way that you move  
It's real, real soon  
But I'm on your side  
And I don't want to be your regret  
I'd rather be your cocoon  
But this is all that you have**_

So they'd found themselves on her couch, half a bottle of tequila and a few bottles of wine later. He'd asked about Sam and for once she'd talked. About the Christmas Eve they'd spent on a stake out, the practical jokes he loved to play on the narcotics team and the time he'd held her as she cried after killing her first criminal. She even had the courage to ask what he remembered best about them, the family Red John had taken from him. His smile had faded and his eye's had taken on a faraway look she'd flushed red and started to stutter out an apology when he'd placed his hand on hers and said "music," "I remember they loved music." She'd looked at him and for the first time the mask was down. His eyes were lit up with happy memories and there was a soft, sweet smile on his face.

_**So please  
Let me take what's left of your heart and I will use  
I swear I'll use only what I need  
I know you only have so little  
So please  
Let me mend my broken heart and**_

But the smile had faded and his eyes had filled with tears when he'd added "and coming home, I remember coming home and finding them." She'd turned her hand and laced her fingers through his. She rested the other on his cheek and leaned into him, intending to comfort, to hold she rested her face against his and given him a kiss on the cheek. But the alcohol and tears, her weakness for him and the feeling she'd tried to keep buried conspired against her. Conspired against them both so it hadn't taken much more than her breath sweet and warm on his face to have him pulling her closer and slanting his mouth against hers. From there all thoughts had left and it was all roving hands and panting breaths. A few sharp pulls and tugs and they had been skin to skin before reason could intrude and when she'd walked to the stairs throwing a hot look and an inviting smile over her shoulder, his only thought had been to follow her.

_**You said this was all you had  
And it's all I need  
But blah blah blah  
Because it fell apart and  
I guess it's all you knew  
And all I have  
But now we have  
Only confused hearts and  
I guess all we have  
Is really all we need**_

It was hours later and she lay wrapped in blankets and cocooned by the warmth of the man sleeping next to her. She dreaded his waking. She knew all the reasons why it should never have happened, had spent the night cataloging them in her head. He was still in love with his wife, he planned to killing Red John or die trying, she would have to arrest him if he succeeded, he was jeopardizing her career, she had fallen in love with him. So many reasons, all valid reasons why they should regret what had happened but she didn't, she couldn't. So she stayed awake while he slept, committing every touch and breath to memory. They would be all she had soon and to tell the truth it was more than she'd ever expected. But she closed her eyes and pretended sleep when he got up to got dressed. She felt him standing over her, felt his hand brush against her cheek but she kept her self still and her eyes closed until he turned and walked out of the room. She hadn't wanted to see the regret and guilt in his eyes and she knew he wouldn't want to see the love in hers so she lay there, as she heard her front door close, with her tears and her memories telling herself they would be enough.

_**So please  
Let's take these broken hearts and use  
Let's use only what we really need  
You know we only have so little  
So please  
Take these broken hearts and leave**_

**Thanks for reading. Please review.**

**;p**


	2. Chapter 2

Hey there. I know I said this was a one shot but I was listening to Sparta's The Most Vicious Crime and I thought it would be a perfect song to finish this up with. Besides the two people who were kind enough to review said they liked it and asked for more. What can I say I'm a sucker for compliments.

Disclaimer: The Mentalist and its characters, the band Sparta (formerly At The Drive Inn, now Mars Volta and Sleepercar) and it's song The Most Vicious Crime aren't mine I just think they're awesome.

**Sea foam and Vicious Crimes**

He stood over her, taking in the smooth ivory skin of her back, the dark mahogany curls tumbling across her cheek and down her shoulder. They made a beautiful contrast to the pale sea green sheets and light blue comforter.

_**Alone, it could be alright**_

_**I'll make it alright**_

_**Have to get by**_

_**Have to get by on my own**_

For someone who kept up the appearance of tough austerity at work, Lisbon's bedroom was surprisingly decadent. Soft thick piled cream carpeting; the furnishings were shaker style with spare clean lines but of highly polished golden colored solid wood. And the bed, "_my god that bed_," from the silky high thread count combed Egyptian cotton sheets to the down comforter and the multitude of satin covered and silk embroidered feather pillows. It was the kind of bed you expected from an 18th century courtesan not his prickly no nonsense senior agent Lisbon.

"_His agent Lisbon," "No she wasn't his; she couldn't be because if she was his he'd have to give up, move on." "He'd have to move on from the memories of his family, give up on his plans for revenge, give up on his plan to kill Red John and he wasn't ready to do that." "He was too selfish to do that, even for her." "Oh he knew she'd never ask him to not for her sake anyway." "She was an innately selfless person, used to considering others before herself, beside she loved him too much to do that."_

He felt it last night in her touches, at first urgent and slightly desperate, they had slowly gentled. She'd started by running her hands up his back until they tangled in the blond curls at the nape of his neck pulling a little roughly as she arched her back, offering herself up to his mouth. They had ended with her running her finger gently through the curls, lightly scraping his scalp then continuing to his neck and down to his shoulders. One hand had kept going, from his shoulder down his forearm to his wrist, finding his hand she'd twined her fingers with his. The other had strayed to his chest, caressing until she'd felt his mouth and tongue traveling from her ear to her neck then her chest, then it had gone back to his neck, pulling him closer 'till they were flush against each other. Her hand held him tight in place as she murmured words of praise and encouragement. The words and the love in her voice echoed in his ears, words like "_please, yes, more, Jane _and_ right there_." Until they formed a song in his mind, a sweet addictive song. The kind you couldn't forget not matter how hard you tried, the kind that would pop into your head at the most inopportune moment, like when you're stuck in traffic or you're supposed to be paying attention to the speech your boss is giving.

_**Today, I found this moment**_

_**Leaned in and stole it**_

_**And this is the start**_

_**This is the start of it all**_

All these thoughts ran through his mind as he stood over her. Like a dying man's life flashes before his eyes, if his life had just begun the night before at 10 past 1 a.m. when his mouth had met hers for the first time. Well if that was when his life (his new life) had started he supposed he should comfort himself with the knowledge that he knew exactly when it would end, most people didn't, it took most of them by surprise, but he knew, down to the minute. Because while he was too selfish to let go of his revenge for her he wasn't selfish enough let her get dragged into it. He couldn't keep making love to her knowing he'd one day see the look of hurt and betrayal in her face when she had to arrest him for killing Red John.

_**I was born into this world**_

_**I've done all I was told**_

_**But oh, I did it too slow**_

_**I walked the straightest line**_

_**I finished it all in time**_

_**But oh, it's not enough for you**_

The walk down her stairs reminded him of another so many years ago, only in reverse. Last time the feeling that something was terribly wrong had grown as he'd walked up the stairs until he'd gotten to the door with the note and he'd know, he was sure that whatever was on the other side it couldn't be good, wasn't something he ever wanted to see. This time the feeling of dread grew as he walked down her stairs until he was facing her front door and though he wanted (almost as much as he wanted his family back, almost as much as he wanted his revenge) to go back up those stairs and crawl back into her bed, so badly it hurt. It was only almost, so he opened it and walked out.

_**I'll steal your cries**_

_**I'll take your life and run it all aground**_

_**I'll bleed your lies**_

_**I'll take your life and run it all aground**_

He got to his car and sat, at a loss as to where he should go. His apartment wasn't an option, it was too quiet, too lonely and he wasn't sure he'd be able to resist the temptation to call her once he got there. He couldn't go to the house in Malibu, his wife was gone but it would still feel like a betrayal, to go there with the taste on his lips and scent on his skin of another woman. He closed his eyes and thought of her, the way she'd opened her eyes and looked up at him, whispering "Patrick" as she'd let go. The way she'd look as he'd last seen her. Sleeping on her side her arm across her chest, the hand palm down and tucked under her cheek, and the corner of the sheet tangled around her hip were the only things keeping her modest. Her other arm was thrown out; palm up as if in supplication and a tangle of curls covered her face. Unable to stop himself he'd reached out gently pushing them off her face, his fingers caressing her cheek as he went. Looking down at her he'd caught his breath, among the ocean colored tangle of blue and green linen, her curls tumbled as if by the breeze, she looked like a copy of Botticelli's Birth of Venus. Watching her he decided he preferred her ebony curls to the red gold hair of the masterpieces original model.

Snapping out of his reverie he looked around and started his car, he'd decided where to go.

He pulled up and got out of his car. Taking off his shoes and coat he left them on the boardwalk and walked down the few wooden stairs and onto the sand. The weather was too overcast for sunbathers, the waves to rough and choppy for surfers so he had the stretch of beach to himself. The memory of her tangled in an ocean colored foam of sheets, the rest of the room with its creamy sand colored walls, the small collection of shells and sea glass in a jar on her dresser even the occasional splash of cocoa brown, in the thick curtains blocking the light from entering the big bay window to the little brown silk throw pillows stacked on the bench at the foot of her bed, looking like drift wood washed up on shore. Even the peace and tranquility, the feeling of contentment he'd felt when he'd first woken up from the best sleep he'd had in years, it had all reminded him of this place. One of the few places he'd felt at home, felt he could rest.

He'd always loved the ocean.

_**Time wore down this passion**_

_**Force fed, but total lack of love**_

_**It wasn't enough**_

_**I lost my head at the thought of losing**_

_**Fell apart when it came to choosing you**_

_**It's time to get it right**_


End file.
